Terra was a world rife with conflict, where nature's cruel hand could instantly raze cities and settlements off the face of the planet at any time. Plagued by natural disasters known as a Catastrophe, the enormous and often violent storms had the power to sunder the land with powerful winds, glass the surface under searing lightning bolts and spread the feared Oripathy disease through the malignant, yet much needed growth of Originium crystals.

The lifeblood behind most of the technology the people of Terra relied on, Originium stocks could only be replenished from the passing of Catastrophe, leaving behind freshly grown chunks of the precious resource ripe for harvest.

But Originium, in almost every form, had the potential to spread Oripathy, a terminal illness that would slowly take over and break down the victim's body until nothing but infectious dust remained, blowing in the wind to spread the disease once more.

In the time it took for the body to crystallize however, some would begin to take advantage of the benefits Oripathy provided. Most notably the use of Originium Arts. While casting them didn't necessarily require infection since all one needed was a unit or suitable container holding Originium to fuel their Arts with, the infected had the bonus of not needing one, drawing from their own diseased bodies to cast Arts at the cost of accelerating the infection and in turn; degradation of their physical selves.

In fear of the disease, many societies across the globe saw the infected in a negative light, treating them like outcasts to be shunned, hated and driven away, with some extremist groups even calling for executions of anyone suspected to be ill with Oripathy. Even worse, some governments would resort to forced labour, keeping the infected slaving away in Originium mines as cost effective slaves, working them to the bone while the particle heavy environment they worked in worsened their infection.

But all the rage and injustice would only serve to add fuel to the fire of an endless cycle of revenge, giving rise to a new organization composed almost entirely of  infected individuals. Reunion; a radical group dedicated to bringing a message of violence to the world.

And it was this very same group of terrorists currently facing off in an intense firefight with the skilled operators of Rhodes Island, a group dedicated to finding a cure for Oripathy. Through the use of medical advancements and science, the group held a repertoire of infected operators with their infections halted or slowed to a crawl, providing aid wherever they could and even intervening in world spanning events that seemed way too big for a simple pharmaceutical company slash paramilitary organization to be involved with.

But the same could be said of Reunion, the very instigators of some of these incidents that almost always had Rhodes Island on their tail.

Unlike the other times where Rhodes Island had the upper hand however, Reunion seemed to be the victors of this skirmish; steadily gaining ground as they pushed uphill in a dead forest as bullets, Arts and missiles whizzed through the air, throwing up soot and rock with the sound of explosions drowning out the yelling voices of the men and women fighting on both sides of the battlefield.

"Come on! Weren't you Rhodes bastards hotshots or sumthin'?! Is this the best you got?"

Leading the Reunion assault was a large man draped in worn shattered armor, dragging a chipped and weathered blade behind him as he stomped slowly through the forest, leaving deep tracks in the muddy floor as he made his way through towards his foes, shrugging off a bolt that had caught him right in the eye, bloodshot orbs spinning to keep track of the timid Feline girl retreating back under cover right before a concentrated shot of his Arts obliterates the space where her head would've been if she had taken even a millisecond longer to move, wrenching the arrowhead free from his eye with a click of his tongue.

'"Goddamn coward…this isn't fun at all you know?!"

With his voice rising into a ragged screech that sounded like it belonged to a raging beast, the Reunion brute slams down the shattered shaft with enough force to leave a sizzling hole in the ground before continuing his onward march with Originium crystals piercing through the bleeding gash in his right eye before shattering, leaving the organ as good as new, free to take on the crazed expression the rest of his face seemed permanently warped into.

Raveed was a man with a thirst for battle, lying in a catatonic state when doing anything but. Ferried from battle to battle, the man's Oripathy only seemed to stoke his lust for blood even further, and so with each battle he took part in and walked away from, his savagery and strength only continued to grow.

That was why his commanders had preferred to save the ticking time bomb for select battles against only the most insurmountable of odds involving strong foes or impenetrable forces. Despite their claims of fighting for a better future for the infected, Reunions leadership didn't seem to see using people like fodder to be a problem at all. If Raveed was going to die, then he might as we did taking one of their strongest enemies to the grave.

And it wasn't as if the man had any relatives to go back to. Lost altogether in a Catastrophe decades prior with the ravages of both time and Oripathy doing a number on Raveed's physical and mental condition, no one even knew what race he was even supposed to be; sporting unnatural growths all across his body and with a genetic structure so corrupted no DNA trace could be made, it was a wonder how Raveed even managed to live a day in this state.

Although with a simple instinct to kill lurking in the degenerate brain of an animal, worrying about looks and pain was the least of Raveed's concerns.

Just before he could crest the hill, an unseen blow from just beyond the other side sends him reeling in a wave of fire, gurgling back ashes as his internals heat up, vaporize and combust all at once, frying the unstoppable beast where he stood.

But even that would prove ineffective at halting Raveed's advance as his mottled figure begins to shroud itself in crystals before shattering to reveal his original mottled body in all its insidious glory. Grinning at the crimson haired maiden brandishing an enormous sword sheathed in flames that was simply way too large for a woman her size to handle.

He'd heard of supposed 'red giant wielding a burning sword' from survivors who returned to bases or outposts he was situated in, listening in whenever they thought he wasn't awake for juicy tidbits, keeping an ear out for particularly strong foes he could look forward to contending with in the next battle he was thrown in.

And now here he was, having already lost once to the cleansing flames of an infamous opponent he'd heard very little of, surmising that very few would even get the chance to walk away to tell the tale. If it wasn't for his enhanced regenerative capabilities, he would've died without even knowing what hit him. Like all the sad saps who were hiding behind and around him earlier. No one else remained on both sides, having either lost their lives or retreated to escape the raging fire that wasted no time in devouring the twisted wood all around them.

All besides Raveed and the flaming woman standing on higher ground.

"Surder…yer Surder ain't you?"

No sooner had he spoken those words before another wave of searing heat razed the ground where he was standing, having enough foresight to dodge away before he could suffer yet another forced revival, laughing as he heard the angered woman click her tongue in disgust.

"At least learn to speak properly before even attempting to utter someone else's name you imbec-"

But just as quick as she had been to retaliate, Raveed takes the opportunity to close the gap between them in an instant, swinging the wicked edge of the longsword he had kept hanging idly from his right hand with a sickening crunch, snapping his own joints with the force of the swing to extend his reach, catching the Rhodes Island operator off guard before her instincts kick in, forcing Raveed back with a flurry of hits from her blade that does little against his Originium coated skin. Wiping a hand down her cheek in mild surprise upon the realization his crude methods had managed to land a bit.

"Interesting…maybe you're not so much the imbecile I thought you were…perhaps a fool?"

Raveed's crooked smile would be all the operator needed to know he wasn't going to go down quietly, baring her own fangs with a renewed surge of fire as she dives in to meets her rabid opponent, matching him strike for strike with the sharp ringing of steel against steel resounding above the heavy roar of the forest fire now in full swing around them. Interrupted every so often by the sonic boom of collapsing space and the thunderous raucous brought about by fiery explosions. It was a battle between equals. A regenerating freak of nature and a graceful warrior who was as fierce as the fire commanded.

But eventually, the battle would come to a standstill, with both haggard combatants struggling to remain standing. Breathing in deep plumes of smoke that didn't seem to bother them one bit.

"Cmonnnnm…werentchu sssurposed to be a hotssshot?"

Slurring his words with half his jaw still mending itself under a cocoon of solid Originium, his opponent could only frown in disgust at the sight of him, wiping blood from the corner of her cheeks. While she had managed to blast him at point blank range multiple times, the multitude of cuts and gashes accrued in exchange seemed to be affecting her adversely now. Unlike Raveed, it seemed as if she didn't have any super regenerative ability of her own.

Not that it deterred her one bit, muttering under her breath as her sword began to flare up with renewed energy. Only this time, Surtr’s body becomes consumed in the flames, watching wide eyed as her skin begins to crack and boil under the intense heat. Was this some sort of last ditch effort to take him out?

Watching her entire figure ignite, Raveed prepares himself for a final attack of his own, clenching his teeth in unimaginable pain he'd never felt before, willing his half reformed body to move as he lurches forward, thrusting with his blade aimed right at Surtr's heart.

Whether his attack had truly connected was something he would never figure out with his vision filling with a searing white light originating from Surtr herself as one last snicker leaves her lips, drowning them both from view before a violent shock wave radiates outward, flattening the burnt down forest and extinguishing the flames, before a new wave of fire, more akin to plasma, washes over the terrain, instantly reducing the area near ground zero to a shiny black material similar to glass…

"That…bishh…"

Finally able to move once more as the muscles in his legs finish regenerating, Raveed pushes himself off the searing hot crater he found himself in after awakening from that brief faint. Assuming he had died, the tortured combatant was understandably furious when the first thing he felt upon awakening was the pain of his flesh cooking like ham in a frying pan.

By the time the ground has cooled enough for him to regenerate lost mass, night had fallen over the desecrated forest, leaving him feeling worse than dead with his limbs now aching with every movement after the tough battle had rendered him permanently encased in Originium crystals as a result of what little was left of his original self being incinerated by Surtr.

"Sssad…sshe bit the dussst before I did…"

Looking around at the mention of his opponent, Raveed could find nothing remaining of her besides the oversized two handed blade left stabbed into the ground at an angle that suggested it had been tossed away from the source of the blast.

Despite his victory over one of Rhodes Island's strongest, Raveed couldn't help but feel empty, letting loose a ragged sigh as he limps toward the felled blade, unable to even walk normally anymore as he looks down at his body. Surtr's flame had been powerful enough to thoroughly erase his flesh and bone…and without anything to heal, all that was left there was an Originium construct mimicking the shape of his legs without the flesh and bone there to form simple movement. He didn't have much time to live any longer.

But looking upon Surtr's discarded weapon had made him curious. It was of a make he'd never seen before, and in a size that made it awkward on anyone shorter than a giant. Even the hilt guard seemed long and sharp enough to serve as a dual edged saber. Might as well spend his last moments toying with the loser's weapon.

'I wonder…how heavy is this thing?'

Placing a ragged hand on the smooth handguard, Raveed could still feel the warmth of the late wielder along the matter black surface of the grip, hefting it firmly before pulling it out of the ground with some effort, making sure not to spear himself through the head with the guard.

True to Surtr's status as a veteran operator, the weapon weighed a metric ton and proved hard to wield, planting his pillar of a leg into the ground just to stabilize himself as he hefts the weapon skyward, marveling at the moonlight reflecting off the molten orange tip that flowed with an innate energy.

"What if I did…this?"

Slamming the weapon downward, Raveed awes at the ethereal blade of flames surfing across the air, illuminating the darkness as it sets fire to the dead stumps all around him. Was this an amplifier of sorts? But he didn't feel the usual drain that left him slightly tuckered out after casting an Art. So if this wasn't a weapon imbued with its own Arts…

"Woah…this thing can’t be for real can it?”

Glancing downward, Raveed catches sight of the hands wrapped around the blade, staring dumbstruck at what he initially assumed to be a trick of the light, a result of his eyes still recovering. But looking closer, the peachy coloration of healthy skin crawling over them was real, concealing the gnarled bony stubs that were his fingers, filling the diseased flesh with vigor and youth as the callused digits regain their former glory, gasping at the smooth pink shells of calcium tipping the slender digits. The sword, or whatever blessed enchantment lay within, was healing him. Realizing he could suddenly formulate clear thoughts in his mind after hearing nothing but white noise and hushed voices in the endless years that flew by ever since his Oripathy had progressed enough to begin affecting his psyche.

But something felt…’off’ about how his miraculously healed hands looked. They seemed smaller and more petite than they had been hours ago, noticing a discrepancy between the size difference of his wrists as the healing effect continued up his arms, wrapping his charred flesh in radiant skin that seemed a bit too soft and hairless for a man to have.

‘Unless…i’ve always had skin this smooth?’

That was something he had to consider; the disease that had left his mind just as broken and diseased as his body was. He could’ve simply forgotten how he looked like in the past despite the nagging feeling telling him to let go of the sword, choosing to trust in the giddy warmth settling in his mind, coaxing him into believing that everything was going to be alright. He hadn’t felt this calm in such a long time after all.

What Raveed wasn’t aware of however, was that something had snuck into his mind the instant he laid hands on the seemingly innocuous blade that should've posed no harm. Festering in the forefront of his mind and slowly gaining ground with the entirety of his arms now completely healed and coated over in a renewed layer of smooth skin, petite flesh and toned muscle with the furrow in his brow relaxing upon the mental image of bulky biceps and hairy forearms being replaced by the same dainty arms he currently inspected, flexing the fingers held firmly around the warm grip with a wry smile on his face.

"Just how I remember them being…"

With the new, and quite literal coat of paint moving on to his torso, Raveed's crooked posture begins to mend as his spine is restored to full working condition, arching inward slightly more than usual until a noticeable S curve could be seen in a pose that seemed to place emphasis on his barren chest and flat rear, which in his current state, looked like a charred skeleton attempting a gravure shoot. But that would soon change as organic material began to build in his chest beneath the newly restored skin to compensate for the loss in mass similar to what had occurred to bestow him with the shapely pair of hands gripping the sword in a more relaxed manner with renewed strength giving him an easier time handling the oversized blade that was only getting larger.

Or was he the one growing smaller…

Whatever the case, Raveed could no longer tell the difference as the mental rewriting begins to pick up speed, overwriting how he remembered himself to be and, as a result, wholly believing that whatever form his body was beginning to take on was that of his original self. Although judging from the very salacious material he was viewing, using a masculine term to describe his new self was very ill advised with the bubbling mass in his chest beginning to flow outward in twin mounds until an ample pair of C cup breasts were sagging down ever so slightly atop a tight, toned navel free of gangrenous flesh and warped muscle with a sexy belly button in the middle of wide set hips that, when working in tandem with his pinched waistline, gave a nice hourglass figure. Showcasing a mix of mature beauty and raw strength as a strip of muscle bulges against the creamy smooth skin of his tummy. The penultimate stage of the metamorphosis of his mangled body into a fitting vessel for the wielder of the blade now floating by his side as he falls to his knees, crying out in an effeminate voice as the new layer of skin engulfs his neck, reshaping the thick trunk into a chiseled pillar free of the bulge of an Adam's Apple, supporting a smaller head bearing new bony protrusions akin to cruel spikes adorning the sides of his cranium as small specks of crimson thread begin to peer through a reformed scalp, extending out into a fiery blossom that wasted no time in pooling all the way down to his shapely derriere, having filled itself with supple fat and firm meat much like his wobbling bosom.

But what brought Raveed to his, or rather her knees, wasn't pain but the alien sensation of pleasure. Not once in her life had she ever felt this way before and so the moment the sparks of lust were ignited between her legs, it had immediately taken her all her focus to prevent a feral moan from escaping fuller lips as the last of Raveed's twisted visage morphs into that of a familiar woman…a woman she was struggling to dissociate from, until her crazed eyes burn over into effervescent violet orbs, burning with the aura of someone else entirely, no longer afeared of the floating sword in her midst. Even if she hadn't the faintest idea on when it came to be, it had proven vital in many points of her long lived life of conflict.

The blade of the flame giant herself…

Not like that rang any alarm bells within the former man's mind with the cleansing flame of the sword having run its course over her body and mind. Even as lanky legs fill with plump meat and sleek curves, Raveed's dwindling presence could feel nothing as the part of her that had become wholly convinced in her new identity further dominated her mind, drowning out pointless thoughts of hesitation and remorse, brimming with confidence and pride that this was how she'd always looked. Long flowing hair invoking the flowing magma rivers of a volcano, a tight, curvaceous form whose beauty belied terrible strength and a past so muddled with conflicting viewpoints and memories she had long since lost interest in recovering it, discarding what remained of Raveed's wartorn self into that maelstrom of what-if's to fester. Whatever she was before, she didn’t care one bit. Surtr, Sarkazian woman with a veiled past and a command over powers beyond her understanding. That was all she needed to know.

And with the final expulsion of faint fluids from the pathetic nub between her legs as an invisible hand finishes prodding it into its rightful place atop a freshly formed slit framed by a healthy, plump labia, Surtr's resurrection was complete, raising her head with a glimmer in her eyes at the sound of footsteps crunching against the glassed surface beneath them. Rising to her feet in one swift motion before clicking her tongue upon the realization that her clothes had been incinerated in the aftermath of her battle against that Reunion degenerate. Pressing her hand up against her breasts while cupping the void between her shapely legs, unwilling to face the hooded figure she had grown a little too intimate with than she would've liked to admit.

"Doctor? I'd appreciate it if you could-hm?"

Her shoulders jumped at the warmth of an oversized jacket being placed over her bare body, relaxing upon realizing the man had shed his protective hood to provide her some measure of decency. Gratitude needed to be repaid with gratitude, and so she spun on her heels to do just that, bowing curtly before the considerate man who she'd noticed had already diverted his solemn eyes away from her. It seemed she had found a weakness she could exploit in the future~

"I thank you for your consideration Doctor, now then, we should return to the landship with haste. Lingering in such places can do no good for the body and mind. Shall we?"

Hefting her trusty blade in one hand, Surtr strolls past the Doctor, making sure to keep him as close to her as possible in the case of any Reunion remnants looking for an easy picking. Even if she could sense his hesitation and her own reservations about skinship, her mind knew the mission came first, and until the two of them were safely back on board with the rest of Rhodes Island, the mission was all that mattered.

With a pep in her step and her Doctor close at hand, the fiery redhead was more than eager for some R&R with a healthy serving of ice cream to get herself cooled off after such an intense fight with a relentless enemy.

And with the early morning sun cresting over the distant mountain crags, the pockmarked land where a dying forest once was glimmers like an inverted aurora emerging from the land, refracting, trapping and bouncing light all around the ruined sword of a fallen warrior, it's long cruel blade still flecked with dried blood and chipped along the edge, forgotten by all...

THE END